


good vibrations

by haleofStilesheart



Series: Tumblr Prompts [37]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Butt Plugs, Confident Stiles, Dirty Talk, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 12:22:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10764180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haleofStilesheart/pseuds/haleofStilesheart
Summary: Stiles decides to buy himself a wireless vibrating butt plug because why not? Everything is fine and dandy until he loses the remote in the middle of the mall while shopping with his boyfriend.





	good vibrations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anonymous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous/gifts).



> For the sex toy prompt: ✥ for some reason i thought it would be fun to wear a wireless vibrator in public, but now i’ve lost the remote (option a. i know we don’t know each other well, but please help me find it before someone else does! or b. you’ve found it and are trying to figure out what it does)

Dating Derek turned out to be a huge ego boost for Stiles.

He was more confident than he had been in years, no longer feeling like just some scrawny, unattractive little loser among his ragtag group of supermodel beautiful friends. Of course, it wasn’t as though he suddenly adored his own appearance and made kissy faces at his reflection in the mirror like Jackson did, but he certainly didn’t cringe anymore when someone took his picture.

Sure, he still wore his baggy, oversized t-shirts and heavy flannels but that was mostly just an issue of comfort, not couture, though Erica still pleaded with him to let her dress him in something more form fitting and fashion forward. But he did stop wearing thick hoodies when it got warmer, not as embarrassed of his lanky arms and legs than he had been in the past. Just the other day he had actually taken his shirt off to go swimming.

All because Derek was dating him and clearly found him attractive. That’s right, Greek god come to earth, Derek Hale thought he was hot stuff.

And his newfound confidence didn’t just extend to his physical appearance.

He was more comfortable talking about his interests and hobbies, not as worried about being ridiculed for the things he enjoyed. He learned to just ignore it if Scott or Jackson or Isaac rolled their eyes at him when he blabbered on and on about the new Pacific Rim movie for the umpteenth, refusing to apologize for the things he was excited about.

Stiles had even made a few new friends after becoming active in some of the extracurricular clubs that his college offered, joining a handful of groups on a whim during his first semester at Stanford. He had even become captain of the school’s chess club!  _ Him! Captain! _

It was all thanks to Derek.

But it wasn’t as though the alpha had just simply waved a magic wand and vanquished all of Stiles’ self-doubt and self-consciousness in an instance. No, he had dedicated himself to showing Stiles just how amazing and special and important he was, inside and out.

It was an uphill battle most of the time, Stiles’ insecurities deeply ingrained in his psyche ever since he was five years old and older boy had pushed him down at the playground and said that his moles looked like rabbit turds. But Derek never gave up, doing anything and everything he could possibly think of to help Stiles realize how wonderful he was.

He was always willing to listen to Stiles ramble on about how much of an amazing actor John Boyega was and how he hopes that his character gets together with Oscar Isaac’s in the upcoming Star Wars movie. Sometimes Derek would even start the conversation just to let Stiles rant about his favorite actor, plopping down on the couch with him and asking him what was new in the world of John Boyega.

Other times, he let Stiles try to teach him chess, in awe of the way Stiles’ mind worked to let him come up with clever strategies. He never once won a game against Stiles, too captivated by how much unabashed fun Stiles was as he brutally took Derek’s knight.

It was because of Derek’s refusal to give up that, after months of dating, Stiles had finally started to come out of his shell, gradually becoming more comfortable with both himself and his boyfriend. Derek, well Derek couldn’t have been more proud.

And so, armed with a boost of confidence, Stiles decided to treat himself to something a little bit more naughty while he was on spring break: a sex toy.

Ever since he had first realized that not only was he bisexual but that he also wanted to be thoroughly fucked, Stiles had wanted to get himself a sex toy to accomplish just that. He had been too nervous in the past to go through with it, only allowing himself to longingly browse through sex toy stores online before scrubbing his browser history clean.

He had talked himself out of it a dozen times before, but that time was different. The second he got home after his last class of the day, his dad still at the station, he pulled up a website and confidently punched in his credit card information without one single regret.

For the next five business days, he found himself pleasantly plagued with thoughts about his new toy as he habitually peeked out the kitchen window to see if he could spot the USPS mail truck that would be delivering the very special package. His new favorite pastime for that week quickly became idly wondering about how it would feel, giving him more than enough fodder for his late night masturbatory fantasies.

When the package finally arrived at exactly 9:45 a.m. on Friday, the first official day of spring break, Stiles volunteered to get the mail, giving his dad a few more minutes to relax at the kitchen with his cup of morning coffee before heading into work. It seemed like nothing more than a son volunteering to do something nice when in reality it was both the aforementioned reason and because Stiles didn’t want his dad accidentally opening the package.

He padded down the front walk in his bare feet to the mailbox, grabbing the pile of magazines and bills for his dad, and bending down to scoop up the package for himself, glad to find that it was just a plain cardboard box addressed to him, no sex toy company logo anywhere to be found. Turning to return to the house, he tried to come up with a reasonable lie to tell his dad to explain the sudden arrival of an unexpected package.

He settled on books, sticking to it when he re-entered the house and handed his dad the stack of envelopes and catalogs that they would eventually just throw away, claiming that Peter had recommended him a book. His dad had just nodded absentmindedly, only half listening as he sipped his coffee and worked his way through the crossword in the previous morning’s newspaper. 

Stiles had set the package aside on the counter and sat back down at the kitchen table to finish his bowl of Fruit Loops, humming thoughtfully as his dad mumbled the crossword clues under his breath. He answered a few of the clues that had more to do with contemporary pop culture, his dad frowning down at the puzzle when the puzzle asked for the name of a Kardashian.

After finishing his bowl of cereal, Stiles quickly stood and rinsed it in the sink before loading it into the dishwater, eager to try out his new toy the second his dad left for work, practically vibrating with excitement. His dad had given him a strange look as he stood to leave for his shift, setting his  _ Number 1, dad! _ mug in the sink, raising his brow as he asked his son how much Adderall he had taken.

Stiles had rolled his eyes and informed him that he was just excited for the weekend, and spring break itself, before reminding his dad to take his reading glasses off, citing the deputies’ shared affinity for calling him ‘old man’ when he wore them. The Sheriff had sent Stiles a halfhearted glare as he slipped off his glasses, folding them before slipping them into the breast pocket of his uniform shirt with a tiny smile, murmuring a grateful, “Thanks, son.”

He wrapped an arm around his son’s shoulders to tug him into a quick hug a moment later, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, ruffling his hair as he pulled back and grabbed his jacket off the hook by the front door. Stiles waved at his dad with a bright smile, telling him to have a nice day at work as John jogged out the front door to his cruiser that was parked in the driveway, locking the door behind himself.

He waited a few minutes after his dad drove away, not wanting to risk the possibility of his dad forgetting something and returning to the house to find his son in the middle of using his new toy, before racing upstairs. As soon as he slammed his bedroom door shut, he ripped opened the package, tossing the cardboard box over his shoulder in his haste to tear open the plastic casing that held what was sure to be one of the best purchases of his life.

He had ordered a two-in-one wireless vibrating butt plug from a highly reputable online sex toy company. And by highly reputable, hec of coursec meant that Erica had raved on and on about their products for three weeks straight after buying herself a vibrator and some flavored lube.

She had given him the URL a while back but he hadn’t had the confidence to actually order anything until then. Spending a few hours browsing through the impressive collection of sex toys and lingerie and other various sexual paraphernalia before settling on the vibrating butt plug.

He had been torn between the vibrating butt plug and a more traditional full sized vibrator, the former winning out once he read all of the available reviews, the butt plug receiving five stars while the vibrator received only four and a half. Besides, he figured it was probably better, and smarter, to start with something smaller than a seven inch long prostate vibrator, especially since he and Derek hadn’t even gone any further passed heated kisses and a tiny bit of heavy petting. Though he had to admit, the vibrator’s allure was palpable.

On the other hand, the butt plug was perfect. Made out of soft, pliable purple silicone with three and a half inches of insertable length and a wireless remote control that actually came with the batteries included, it was a curious, extremely horny, and dare he say, sexually frustrated, man’s dream.

Before he could get down to business, he focused on cultivating the right mood, in a way seducing himself. He busied himself with locking his bedroom door and drawing the blinds, efficiently blocking out the midmorning sun.

Biting his bottom lip in pure anticipation, he climbed onto his unmade bed while wriggling out of his striped pajama pants, having not bothered to get dressed considering the fact that he was officially on break. He shucked his Spiderman boxers off as well but didn’t bother tugging his t-shirt off, admittedly still a little bit too self-conscious to look down at his own completely naked body.

Relaxing back against his propped up pillows, Stiles pulled open the top drawer of his nightstand, rooting around in it until he found his bottle of lube, lifting it out of the dresser with a triumphant grin. He thumbed the bottle of lube open and drizzled a dollop into his palm before tossing the bottle onto his comforter beside the butt plug, letting out a deep sigh as he curled his hand around himself.

Normally, he would watch some porn or at the very least look up some gifs on Tumblr to get himself in the mood, but with the arrival of his new toy he was already pretty keyed up, sure that he wasn’t going to last very long at all. That was why he only allowed himself a few strokes of his cock, slipping his other hand under the hem of his t-shirt to run the pad of his thumb over the hard bud of his nipple, before letting his slicked fingers wander.

He traced the tip of his index finger over the furl of his ass, shivering at the cool temperature of the lube on the sensitive skin as he teased himself a bit, wanting to drag out the foreplay if only for a little bit. It wasn’t every day that he got to experiment with a new sex toy, after all.

Letting out a soft, unbidden moan as he began to more firmly rub his hole until he was relaxed enough to take his index finger up to the last knuckle, he grabbed the bottle of lube with his dry hand. He awkwardly fumbled with the bottle until he managed to squirt some onto his wet hand, coating his fingers some more as he slid another one in, starting to thrust his fingers a bit.

Too eager to waste any more time on foreplay when he was already more than ready, he abandoned the painstaking work of fingering himself open and grabbed the vibrating butt plug, a frisson of excitement coursing through him. He set the plug down on his stomach as he picked the bottle of lube back up and squeezed a rather liberal amount of KY into his hand with which he coated the butt plug, preferring to be safe rather than sorry. Less was definitely not more when it came to lube.

Flipping the lid of the bottle of lube closed so it didn’t leak out all over his sheets, Stiles shifted in his spot, spreading his legs a little bit wider as he brought the wet tip of the butt plug to his hole. Gently, he began pushing it inside himself, giving himself some time to adjust to the feeling of something other than his own fingers inside of him, gnawing on his bottom lip.

In all honesty, he didn’t really care how long it took to fit the plug up inside of himself, preferring to fixate on just how amazing it would feel once he flicked on the remote, the plug specially designed to stimulate his prostate. He could not freaking wait. But, alas, he had to, not wanting to completely ruin the mood by accidentally tearing something in his haste to get off.

Just when it started to get really,  _ really _ good, the plug easily sliding in to the base, the blunt tip of it teasingly pressing right up against that most pleasurable bundle of nerves inside him as he groped around blindly for the remote, it was ruined. Practically the second he turned the remote on to its very lowest thrum of mind-blowing pleasure pulsing through his entire body, he was rudely interrupted by the loud, shrill sound of his cellphone ringing.

With a frustrated groan, he reluctantly switched off the remote, embarrassingly close to whining when it deprived him of the heavenly sensation of the plug buzzing inside of him. He sat up in bed, the plug shifting a bit to press against his prostate more insistently, dragging a moan out of him as he glanced around for his phone that was still ringing.

He found it on his nightstand, still charging. It rattled against his alarm clock as it continued ringing incessantly until he picked it up. He didn’t bother to check who was calling him, swiping his thumb over the screen to accept the call as he brought the phone up to his ear and demanded in a vicious growl, “What do you want?!”

He wanted to smack himself when he heard Derek’s voice over the line, slightly tremulous as he tentatively announced, “I, uh… Sorry… I need some help…”

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath, running a hand through his hair, feeling like a grade A jackass for being so rude. Derek probably thought that he had done something wrong. Quick to assure his boyfriend that he hadn’t done anything to elicit any harsh words, Stiles apologized, “Sorry, babe. Wasn’t expecting you. What do you need help with?”

“I don’t know what to get Erica for her birthday,” Derek admitted, Stiles sure that the tips of his ears were probably bright red while he scratched the back of his head. His big strong alpha boyfriend was little more than a soft puppy under his gruff exterior.

Stiles smiled to himself, picturing Derek in the middle of a crowded story trying to figure out what to get her for her nineteenth birthday, comparing clothes while trying to stay up to date on the trends that Erica followed like a fish following the current. He would be completely lost.

“Want me to tag along?” Stiles asked, still grinning to himself, as he absentmindedly dragged the tip of his finger over his comforter, tracing random patterns onto the blanket. He didn’t mind putting his plans to get off on hold for a few hours to help Derek out with some birthday shopping, even though it was months until Erica’s actual birthday, not wanting to leave his boyfriend aimlessly puttering around in search of a proper gift.

It would be like a bull in a china shop, or rather a werewolf in a china shop. And while that was certainly a rather amusing notion, he was sure that Derek wouldn’t find it quite so funny.

“You don’t mind?” Derek questioned, distracting Stiles from his thoughts, sounding so sweet and unsure as though not wanting to bother Stiles with anything that he just wanted to squish his cheeks and baby talk to him, maybe give him a blow job. Okay, so he wanted to be all gross and couple-y and sexual with his boyfriend, sue him.

“‘Course not,” Stiles informed, shifting around a bit on the mattress so the plug wasn’t still teasing his prostate, biting down on a hiss of pleasure as he did, not wanting Derek to know about his toy. Fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt, Stiles tipped his head to the side and wondered aloud, “Just let me get ready and I’ll meet you at the loft, okay?”

“Uh, well, I’m already kind of here?” Derek replied, his answer sounding much more like a question than anything else, clearly embarrassed by his little confession. He still sounded a bit shy when he elaborated, “I was hoping you’d go with me and I only thought to call you once I was already here. Sorry.”

“Dude, don’t be sorry,” Stiles instructed gently, clicking his tongue in lighthearted reprimand. He smiled to himself as he added, “I know you’re just eager to see me. Can’t really blame you there, babe. I am pretty amazing―” Derek breathed out a soft laugh, making Stiles’ smile grow wider “―Just give me a few minutes to get ready, okay?”

“I’ll be right here,” Derek answered, a smile in his voice as he waited for Stiles to hang up, never the first one to end their calls unless he was upset. After he ended the call with a promise to be quick, Stiles was left to freak out a but by himself, feeling his face flush as he groped around for his discarded underwear, unable to avoid feeling like a massive pervert.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, he chewed his lower lip again, dipping his hand down to run the pad of his index finger over the base of the plug, ready to carefully remove it before getting dressed to help out Derek. But then another thought occurred to him that made him freeze stock still. 

Would it really be so bad to keep the plug in? It wasn’t as though Derek would really know. Stiles almost always smelled like low grade arousal when he was around his boyfriend so it wasn’t as though him smelling like lube and arousal would set off any alarm bells.

And Stiles couldn’t deny the fact that the mere thought of keeping the plug in while he went shopping with Derek was beyond hot. Maybe he was kinkier than he thought. 

He owed it to the confidence boost dating Derek had imbued him with, so it wasn’t even really his fault. If anything, it was Derek’s fault. At least, that’s what he was going to go with.

So, bolstered by the fact that no one would be the wiser, Stiles carefully stood from his bed, glad to find that the plug stayed perfectly in place, and tugged on his boxers with one hand and wiped the excess lube on his other hand off on his sheets. He quickly went about gathering clothes for a suitable outfit ― jeans, a Guardians of the Galaxy t-shirt, and his usual red hoodie ― and just as quickly got dressed, bouncing down the stairs on one foot while shoving his other foot into his Converse shoe.

With one last look at himself in the hallway mirror, he tucked the remote for the vibrating plug into the pocket of his hoodie, ran a hand through his messy hair, and slipped out the front door to meet Derek.

*  * * * *

Stiles had never really realized how unbelievably expensive women’s clothing was. He blamed the misogynistic pink tax as he browsed through a rack of tank tops that cost more than his entire outfit.

Derek had driven them a town over to the nearest mall, making a beeline to the most expensive store in the entire place, dragging Stiles along by the hand while insisting that Erica deserved nothing less than the very best. Stiles couldn’t argue, though he certainly did feel a little self-conscious about the present he had bought for Erica, the bottle of fancy French perfume paling in comparison to the array of expensive jewelry and high-end clothing the store offered.

Derek had told Stiles to pick out whatever he thought Erica might like, instructing him not to even glance at the price tags despite the way that spending so much money made Stiles feel a little lightheaded. With a kiss to Stiles’ forehead, making him feel even more lightheaded, Derek had disappeared to the other side of the store, perusing through a different section of skirts and dresses.

About an hour later they had a cart full of various shirts and skirts and dresses and heels, all of which were sleek and dark and sexy, both of them sure that Erica would adore every last article of clothing they had picked out for her. Curling his arm around Derek’s elbow, Stiles laid his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder, breathing in the scent of his aftershave and the leather of his jacket as he murmured, “You know you’re gonna upstage the rest of our gifts, right, babe? Especially mine. I just got her some perfume.”

Tilting his head to the side to better see Stiles, Derek hummed thoughtfully, furrowing his brows a bit as he thought. With a wide grin and a squeeze of Stiles’ arm, he casually suggested, “How about you go pick her out some jewelry? We’ll put it on my card and put your name on the box.”

“Dude, really?” Stiles asked, pulling back a few inches to look up at Derek skeptically, raising a questioning brow as he looked his boyfriend up and down. Derek just nodded, bright smile still in place. Still dubious, Stiles only relented a little tiny bit, claiming, “Okay. But you have to let me pay you back! I’m not looking to be your sugar baby.”

“Aww, why not?” Derek whined playfully, jutting his bottom lip out in a mocking pout, laughing at the blank, unamused face Stiles gave him. He leaned down to kiss the tip of Stiles’ upturned nose, he himself relenting and informing him, “Fine, you can pay me back. But not with money.”

“Well, well, well… Are you propositioning me, Mr. Hale?” Stiles gasped in mock outrage, tsk-ing as he looped his arms around Derek’s shoulders, raising himself up to press a soft, fleeting kiss to his lips. Afterwards, he rubbed the tip of his nose against Derek’s, loving the fact that he could be as grossly affectionate with his boyfriend in public as he wanted.

“Actually, I meant you should be my personal chef to pay off your debt ― I love your homemade pierogies ― but if you want to pay me back with sexual favors, you won’t hear me complaining,” Derek answered smoothly, returning the nuzzle. His response sent Stiles into a fit of laughter, turning his head to avoid smacking his forehead against Derek’s when he threw his head back to laugh.

With a hand at the small of Stiles’ back, Derek gently nudged him in the direction of the jewelry counters, Stiles rolling his eyes but walking away nonetheless as Derek returned to picking out even more clothes. Erica would have to get a new closet with all the clothes Derek was getting her, Stiles thought, shaking his head as he strolled across the boutique, accidentally bumping into the side of a counter of purses.

When he got over to the multitude of jewelry display cases, nearly blinded by the vast array of glittering diamonds and emeralds and citrine jewels, he slipped his hands into his pockets. He didn’t want to smudge up the glass case with his fingerprints.

He scanned his eyes over the vast selection of necklaces on display, lighting over all of the different colored gems set in gold and silver and platinum. He found one particular necklace that he thought Erica would like; a diamond necklace with emerald teardrops.

Absentmindedly running his fingers over the back of his phone case, he abruptly realized something that froze him in his tracks. The remote for the vibrating plug, the one that he was still wearing, was gone.

He could actually  _ feel _ the blood drain from his face as he turned on his heel and began to frantically scan his eyes over the floor of the boutique, desperately searching for the remote. But it was nowhere in sight.

Internally berating himself for being so unbelievably stupid, he jogged back over to where stood by a rack of clothes, sweeping his eyes over the floor the whole time. He knew that the best thing to do was just be honest and beg for Derek’s help in finding the remote.

Hurrying across the store, he ran his eyes over the floor, looking for any hint whatsoever of the discreet little black remote, stepping around other shoppers and desperately hoping no one else found it. The very thought chilled him to the bone and made him move even faster, nearly sprinting over to Derek who was frowning down at something in his hand.

“Derek!” Stiles hissed in a low whisper as he skid to a stop beside his boyfriend, laying a shaky hand on Derek’s upper arm as he took a moment to catch his breath and attempt to organize his thoughts. Taking a deep breath, Stiles tried again, beginning, “I need your help. I need to find someth―”

His words trailed off into a high pitched croak, his eyes growing wider than saucers when he realized what it was that Derek was frowning down at. It was the remote for the vibrating butt plug, looking small and innocuous in Derek’s big hand as he turned it over curiously.

“Hmm?” Derek mumbled, lifting his head and turning to look at Stiles. Right as he flicked the  _ start _ button to turn the plug on.

Stiles nearly collapsed, knees buckling as a pulse of pleasure zapped through him, the plug buzzing to life inside of him, little shocks of pleasure rocking him to the core, racing up his spine. He fisted his hand in the sleeve of Derek’s leather jacket, back arching in indescribable pleasure as he ducked his head and bit Derek’s shoulder, only barely managing to muffle a moan.

Derek let out a shocked gasp, the sharp scent of Stiles’ arousal nearly knocking him on his ass. Mind racing, he put two and two together, fumbling with the remote in his hand, Stiles whining high in his throat the entire time until Derek finally managed to turn the remote off.

Before Stiles could fully recover from both the shock and the ineffable pleasure, gasping for breath while he pressed his furiously red face into Derek’s shoulder, Derek curled a hand around his wrist and tugged him away. He made a beeline to the other side of the store, heading directly to the dressing rooms. 

He ignored the wary look the dressing room attendant gave him in favor of guiding Stiles into an empty stall. He encouraged Stiles to sit on the bench with a hand on his shoulder as he turned and bolted the door shut behind them. 

“What the hell is going on, Stiles?” Derek began, running a hand over his face as he started pacing back and forth in the stall, like a caged animal. He let out a huff as he buried a hand in his hair, continuing his dizzying pace as Stiles looked on.

Rubbing his arm and studiously avoiding so much as glancing at Derek, Stiles struggled to formulate some explanation that didn’t make him sound like some kind of disgusting pervert. But he couldn’t.

There was no good reason for him to have a vibrating butt plug shoved up his ass at that very moment, and he couldn’t come up with one that was even remotely acceptable. His knack for twisting the truth completely failed him in that moment.

“Uh, well…” Stiles tried with a nervous laugh, still rubbing his arm as his mind raced, desperately searching for something,  _ anything _ , to say. But he still could not think of anything that would spare him from Derek’s inevitable repulsion and rejection. “Y’know, it’s actually kind of a funny story…”

“Stiles!” Derek barked irritably, dropping his hand to his side as he spun on Stiles. He narrowed his eyes at his boyfriend and impatiently insisted, “Explain. Now.”

With the inevitable unavoidable, Stiles took a deep, steeling breath. Then, after nibbling on his bottom lip, Stiles finally admitted in a rush of breath, “I, uh… I’m wearing a vibrating butt plug and that’s―” he gestured awkwardly at the remote still in Derek’s hand “―that’s the remote.”

Derek was completely, deathly, horrifyingly silent save for a sharp intake of breath, remaining so stonily quiet that Stiles couldn’t resist sneaking a quick peek up at him. He immediately regretted it when he saw how downright furious Derek looked.

His thick brows were drawn down in a firm scowl as he glared down at the remote in his hand, uncurling his fingers so he wasn’t clutching it so tightly. Now it was Derek who refused to look at Stiles. And to make things worse, his nostrils were actually flaring, something Stiles had only seen when Derek was angry beyond words.

Stiles racked his brain, trying to think of something mollifying to say, maybe some kind of apology or plea for forgiveness. But the words died in his throat, only a pathetic excuse for a whine leaving his lips.

He couldn’t help the flinch that jolted through him when Derek abruptly turned to him, looking more angry than Stiles had ever seen him. And Stiles had seen him rip open his uncle’s throat to avenge the death of his older sister. Frankly, it terrified him.

Derek stalked towards him, looking every bit like the predator he was, somehow managing to terrify Stiles even more. It wasn’t that he was afraid of  _ Derek _ — he could never be afraid of Derek, knowing damn well that Derek would never hurt him — it was just that he was afraid of what Derek might say. 

“Go out to the car,” Derek instructed firmly when he was only a few scant inches away from Stiles, close enough that Stiles could feel the warmth of his skin. Pressing his car keys into Stiles’ hand, he said, “I’ll finish up here.”

Stiles could only nod dumbly, staring down at the keys in his hand before curling his fingers around them and shoving them into his pocket. Eyes on the ground, he walked around Derek out of the dressing room stall, again ignoring the skeptic look the attendant sent in his direction. 

He didn’t really care anymore. He had more important things on his mind.

Too scared to look back, he trudged on out of the store on shaky legs, sure that when Derek returned to the car he would break up with him.

* * * * *

Sitting alone in the Camaro in the middle of the mall parking lot, waiting to be dumped with a vibrating butt plug still lodged up his ass wasn’t much better than being in the middle of a high-end boutique when said vibrating butt plug was unexpectedly turned on. If anything, it was actually worse.

He was a nervous wreck, bouncing his leg and tapping his fingers on the center console. They hadn’t even been dating a whole year and Derek was going to dump him for being a disgusting pervert. 

There was no escaping it, his fate completely inevitable. He just hoped that Derek didn’t hate him too much.

Just the thought had him shifting uncomfortably in his seat, a jolt of intense pleasure abruptly reminding him that he was still wearing the butt plug. He had briefly considered taking it out while waiting for Derek get back, but even with the dark tint on the Camaro’s windows, he was too worried that someone might see to actually attempt it.

Instead, he just sat on his hands to keep them from shaking and tried to maintain a brave face, not wanting to let himself drift any further into thoughts about Derek breaking up with him. Though he knew that it was the only foreseeable outcome that many any reasonable sense.

It took a while for him to realize that Derek still had the remote.

* * * * *

He jumped in his seat when Derek rapped his knuckles against the driver’s side window fifteen minutes later, laden with two handfuls of bags bearing the boutique’s name and intricate logo. Fumbling with the key fob, Stiles managed to pop the trunk and unlock the doors, Derek sending him a grateful salute through the back windshield as he rounded the car to the trunk.

After depositing the heavy looking bags in the trunk, closing it with a soft slam, Derek jogged over to the driver’s side door. He opened it and slid into his seat with a quiet grunt, straightening his leather jacket.

Stiles practically flung the keys at Derek as soon as the werewolf closed the door behind himself, keeping his eyes glued to his feet. He just wanted to get it over with, figuring it would hurt less.

“Stiles—” Derek began, his brow furrowed in confusion, but Stiles didn’t let him finish the thought, cutting him off with a declaration of his own.

“I’m sorry!” He blurted, fisting his hands in the fabric of his jeans as he rapidly spat out the words. “I’m sorry! I ordered the stupid butt plug and wanted to try it out but then you called me in the middle of using it and asked if I could help you and I didn’t want to say no just because I wanted to get off and I only kept it in because I figured no one would ever find out but then I dropped the remote and you found it and I’m sorry, Derek!”

He was on the verge of tears by the time he finished relaying his barely comprehensible burst of words, biting his bottom lip to keep from flat out bursting into tears. He didn’t want to look any more pathetic than he was sure he already did. Nonetheless, he hunched his shoulders and curled in on himself, waiting for Derek to do or say something.

But while he was expecting angry, disgusted words or brutal accusations of him being a pervert, Derek only reached out a hand to gently cup his cheek, guiding Stiles’ face up so that their eyes met. Instead of anger or disgust or any other negative emotion, Stiles only saw a soft, tender expression on Derek’s face, his brows drawn together as he scanned over Stiles’ features.

“I’m not upset, Stiles,” Derek assured him, running the pad of his thumb over the smooth, unblemished skin of Stiles’ left cheek. Leaning in a bit closer, he pressed his forehead to Stiles’, continuing, “Or angry or anything. I promise.”

“You’re not?” Stiles asked, completely incredulous, scanning his eyes over Derek’s face for a hint of anything negative in his gentle expression. But he found nothing. It didn’t make any sense. “But… I wore a butt plug! A  _ vibrating _ butt plug! In  _ public _ !”

Derek silenced him with a deep kiss, stroking his knuckles over the line of Stiles’ jaw as he flicked the tip of his tongue against Stiles’. Pulling back, his lips wet with spit, he admitted in a deep husky voice, “God, do you even realize how hot that is?”

Stiles was baffled. “How hot what is?”

“ _ You _ ,” Derek answered emphatically, rolling his eyes even as he pressed a series of lingering kisses to the corner of Stiles’ mouth. Tilting his head a bit, he began kissing a path up to Stiles’ temple, his lips smooth and wet and warm against Stiles’ skin as he mumbled, “Fuck, Stiles. A vibrating butt plug? Knew you’d be a little kinky, but wearing it in public? So fucking hot.”

“Wait, really? You seriously think so?” Stiles asked in a murmur, letting his eyes fall shut as Derek peppered kisses over his face, thumb still caressing his cheek. He was in a daze.

Just hearing Derek say the words  _ ‘butt plug’ _ was one of the hottest things Stiles had ever experienced, let alone having Derek kiss him and tell him just what he thought about said butt plug. He was pretty sure he had died and gone to heaven.

“Mmmhmm…” Derek hummed in answer, his lips pressed to the side of Stiles’ jaw, slightly muffling his mumble of assent. Laying the center of his forehead against Stiles’ temple, he pressed, “C’mon, baby. Tell me. How does it feel?”

While usually so adept at using words, Stiles was completely tongue tied, words totally failing him as Derek breathed heavily against his ear, sending a pleasant frisson of shivers down his spine as goosebumps broke out over the skin of his arms. Geez, he was halfway to coming in his pants and all Derek had done was kiss him a few times and ask a couple of questions, just his voice driving Stiles’ crazy. They really needed to try phone sex one day.

Filing away that thought for later, mostly so he could jerk off to it at a later date, Stiles tried to focus on formulating some sort of coherent response so Derek didn’t think that he wasn’t paying any attention to him. But the only intelligible thing he could utter, albeit in a strained raspy excuse of a whisper, was simply, “Good…”

Derek hummed low in his throat, his hand drifting down to rest over Stiles’ collarbone through his hoodie, his fingertips running over the column of his throat. Leaning down to kiss a spot where Stiles’ neck met his jaw, Derek very, very softly muttered, “Can I… Can I maybe get you off with it?”

Stiles let out a shocked yelp, jerking back in shock. He was sure that he had misheard Derek somehow. Because there was no way Derek had just said—

“Please? I wanna get you off with your little toy,” Derek reiterated more clearly, face still buried against the side of Stiles’ neck, confirming that he had, in fact, heard him correctly. He was still shocked, not really knowing how to react. But just the thought of Derek using the toy to get him off, the thought of Derek getting him off period, was enough to encourage him into nodding his head frantically.

Derek pulled the remote to the vibrating butt plug out of his pocket, brandishing it cockily. And, with a wicked smirk, he turned it on.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about the really abrupt end. If there's enough interest I might write a second part.  
> You can find me on tumblr [here](http://hale-of-stiles-heart.tumblr.com/). Maybe send me a prompt or two. (If you seriously have an interest in me continuing this, send me a prompt on Tumblr!)


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